


There's No Reason For Living With A Broken Heart

by Vivian_Kennedy



Series: Good Omens Works [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A Little Fall of Rain, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Insecurity, Love Hotels, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Protective Crowley, Rain, Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Scared Crowley (Good Omens), Sharing Body Heat, Slow Burn, Travel, Wet Clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 17:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19728835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian_Kennedy/pseuds/Vivian_Kennedy
Summary: In his arms, Crowley lets his emotions run amok.Aziraphale comforts him through the dreary night.





	There's No Reason For Living With A Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> word count - 5.4k

* * *

It had been a week since the almost-Armageddon. 

Crowley would know- he had been counting the days after all. That godforsaken day when he thought he lost his _best friend._

_When he had almost lost Aziraphale because of his foolishness ***.**_

Anthony J. Crowley had never been much for emotions or feelings. A man of few words, he was like a closed book to many people. Behind his black-tinted sunglasses it was impossible for anyone to read what he felt. And he'd like to keep it up for as long as possible. When you live on Earth as a fallen angel- a demon, one learns many lessons from a lifespan of 6000-odd years. And his life taught him to never trust anyone. And after all, why would he? He was a demon and trusting someone was too humane for _someone like him._

But after the approaching apocalypse had been stopped (at least for now, as he doesn't think that after what he and Aziraphale had pulled on both sides- Heaven and Hell alike, that they'd keep mum about the whole ordeal for long), he had come to realize something. No matter his origin, mortality or morality- he _wanted_ to trust someone. Not just someone- he wanted to trust Aziraphale.

Despite the action going against his very nature as a demon- violating his belief system as an ethereal of the dark side, he couldn't help but feel love and adoration and care bursting at seams for one person; for an angel of all people. No matter how much he denied it- to the strangers on the streets who misunderstood them for a couple (Hell, he sometimes wishes for it to be true, but he doesn't believe in 11:11- he created that hoax, after all), Adam Young's parents (who he had briefly met after Adam sent Satan back to the underworld) or to Anathema and Newton (who were deeply in love with one another and were soon getting married)- the truth was that Crowley cared for Aziraphale in a way which he had never cared about anything else. 

Some might even dare to say that it was _love_ he felt for the angel. But Crowley knew better. 

Fallens do not feel love for anything. And even if they did, what are the chances their feelings might get reciprocated? 

_What are the chances that Aziraphale felt the same?_

_'Next to none',_ Crowley mused bitterly as the cold wind nipped his face, staring down at the cold London one gets to witness only in December. 

_Not a fucking chance._

* * *

**_*For Crowley knew now that the reason behind Aziraphale's reluctance for leaving the world to face its fate and off to Alpha Centauri was not just because he had grown fond of it, but also for the memories he had made with the aforementioned demon during their 6000-odd years arrangement, aka friendship. Aziraphale was just too much of a sentimental bastard. But he was a sentimental bastard worth knowing._**

* * *

It was in mid-January when Aziraphale got an RSVP card for Anathema and Newton's wedding. Crowley did not know how he felt about it. Yes, they were indeed very helpful in thwarting the plans of the Lord of the underworld and the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse by overriding the computers controlling nuclear weaponry around the world. And they had been extremely hospitable when they recounted all that had happened till the almost-Armageddon. But Crowley couldn't help but feel this sinking feeling inside his stomach, as if....as if he's being weighed down by a lead balloon *****. 

"Oh, isn't it wonderful Crowley? They are both in love and soon getting married!", Aziraphale was brimming with joy for the now-engaged couple and Crowley felt like throwing up. 

They had barely known each other for a month-and-a-half and now they were getting married soon. Crowley had known Aziraphale for how long now? A little over 6000 years and yet he had never been more than a friend- _a mere acquaintance._

Time and time again Crowley had tried to take one step closer to him and _his angel - not really his, unfortunately-_ always set them back by ten. _Was he really that despicable that Aziraphale couldn't bear to associate himself with someone like him?_

When Crowley went back home after a late dinner at the Ritz, he saw the same RSVP card on his table. 

_He replied back with a firm **'No'.**_

* * *

_***Funny how that's the same thing he had said when he met the angel in the Garden of Eden.**_

* * *

When he had replied to the Device-Pulsifer wedding, Crowley hadn't expected that Aziraphale would've dragged him in as his plus one. ***** If he had even a slightest hint of an idea, he would've gone into hibernation like polar bears do and not wake up for the next three centuries**. 

"Why are you taking me? I told them I wasn't coming!", Crowley said, frustrated with his poor attempts of tying the black tie properly around his neck. If he tugs it a bit harder, it might choke him and save him from the embarrassment of gong to a wedding. It was a cursed accessory- the tie, the reason why thousands of people take the name of heaven and hell in vain and curse their work place to damnation for making these useless ties as a compulsory accessory to their daily work outfits. 

Crowley wouldn't take credit for making those, because he was damn sure that it was Heaven's work - creating something like tie.*** 

Aziraphale popped his head into the room from the door and walked towards Crowley. He was dressed up in[ a white three-piece](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1577/5497/products/white_tux_580x@2x.jpg?v=1533601080), complete with a black bow tie sitting immaculately atop his shirt-clad collar bones. His fluffy blonde hair had been combed neatly, yet they looked as soft and poofy as ever. He had his reading glasses on as he had been clearly doing some last minute inventory of the book store. 

_By the gods, he looked beautiful._

Not that Crowley would ever admit it out loud. 

The angelic man stood before Crowley and keeps his palm open, expectantly. He handed over the tie and Aziraphale shifted ever so slightly towards him and Crowley's breath hitched. They were so close that he could count the very faint, almost invisible freckles on his nose. He could smell his sweet cologne; it was light, like him- fruity, like lemongrass and lavender. He could see the black pupils in his beautiful cornflower eyes and how his eyes crinkled in delight as he finally fixed his tie and dusted off imaginary dust from his suit. 

"Well, my dear. Your problem has been solved. And to answer your question, Anathema insisted that you come. After all, they decided on an open-plan for the wedding just for you, dear", Aziraphale answered, taking a once-over look in the mirror. 

Crowley couldn't help but crack a wan smile at that. It was because of his status as a demon and his inability to enter consecrated grounds that Newton and Anathema decided to have a small wedding in the meadows of Lower Tadfield. He did feel guilt trickle down his gut and tightened his stomach. The feeling intensified when Aziraphale said,"And it would've looked bad if I didn't come with my beautiful plus one!". 

He nodded silently and replied, "I'll get the car started. You lock the store and come out as fast as possible. If you're not outside in the next five minutes, I'll leave you behind". 

Crowley thought that he heard a faint, "Now, look who's eager to attend the wedding!", but he was too clammy and nervous to pay it any attention. 

_He was absolutely whipped for Aziraphale._

And he knew that his limits would be tested for the next couple of hours. He just couldn't anticipate the torture he'd have to bear for being _so close_ , but _not close enough- never close enough to the love of his life._

_He couldn't wait for the day to get over._

* * *

_***The devil works hard, but Aziraphale works harder. :D**_

_****And he'd have done that without a hitch, given the fact that he has had some experience in being a sloth for a century, give or take a few years.** _

_*****If he could he would've smote the person who came up with the very concept of strangling oneself with an asymmetrical piece of cloth. But smiting was more of Heaven's forte than his. Moreover, he got the credit for making them, so it was useless trying to destroy or else Hell would know that the Spnish Inquisition wasn't his doing.**_

* * *

The wedding had been wonderful. 

_Almost like a Disney fairy-tale. Walt Disney would've been proud of this wedding._

Anathema looked so pristine, so magically beautiful in her[ periwinkle ball gown](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB15iFTSXXXXXayXXXXq6xXFXXXd/Periwinkle-Sparkling-Beads-Two-Piece-Prom-Dress-Lewande-51008-Chiffon-A-Line-2pc-Celebrity-Pageant-Gown.jpg_640x640.jpg) and Newton looked dapper in his [black three-piece vest suit](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1MmMUJVuWBuNjSszbq6AS7FXax/Italian-Retro-Custom-Made-Black-Wedding-Suits-for-Men-Blazers-Jacket-3-Pieces-Pants-Gray-Vest.jpg_640x640.jpg). Anathema's mother, who was flown in here, accompanied her during the march down the [aisle ](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSz4yDftVzPvEWXdkH4pSH-zpmhhVryW1WaXr8nWtGPaDs-TxX2)and Newton looked like he was the luckiest man alive. Crowley had to tune out when the priest started talking and switched in on the ceremony when the couple exchanged vows under[ the beautiful wedding arch.](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTtdNBcnMPD4ZavFPZ8iWXN9dxsID-Kp6_6uG0zE22z61I3N8uONQ) By the time they were finished and Newton finally kissed his better half, everybody were on their feet and clapping for the lucky bride and groom. Crowley glanced sideways to see Aziraphale in tears, clapping along with the crowd. 

Crowley felt an urge to wipe his tears away, but resisted. 

As they walked down the aisle and went to get ready for the reception that was to take place afterwards, Aziraphale turned to him and asked, "Well, that was beautiful! Was it not, my dear boy?" 

"Yeah", Crowley dryly replied. 

"If you don't mind, my dear.....Newton needs your help with his outfit, something about 'fitting it right'. Can you meet him at the cottage?", he asked the demon. 

He numbly nodded in response, and left. But not without seeing the angel hug Anathema and wishing he'd hug him too. _ *****_

* * *

_***Aziraphale and Crowley had never hugged before, despite being friends for 6000 years. It is a shame really, for the most PDA they'd ever done was shaking hands. :')**_

* * *

The reception was just as grand yet simplistic, as the wedding. Newton actually needed Crowley's help with not only his outfit, but also with preparing Anathema's surprise gift- which was a set of witchcraft herbs and materials she'd need for making potions. _ *****_

She was really touched by the considerate gift- for no amount of flowers or chocolates could've topped that _ ****.**_ Everyone was marveling at the beauty of the banquet hall- its decorations, color palette and the food was delicious. Afterwards, they all watched on as she had her first dance with her beloved husband. 

As they all had their late-lunch _ *******_ , Crowley looked at his angel companion as he savored the taste of the too-sweet strawberry sorbet ice-cream****. He turned to him with a content smile and said, "Aren't we supposed to leave by 4?" 

"Yeah, angel. We are gonna leave in an hour. So you better finish fast", he replied as he got up an stretched his legs. Adam and his friends were still slurping on their icy dessert, while the newly married couple made googly eyes at each other. This was too much happiness for the day. He needed to clear his head. 

"Of course, just let me give Anathema her gift and we're good to go!". 

"Alright, then". 

* * *

_***She had read a book once about potion-making by a famous potions master and wanted to try her hand at it).**_

_****Although she still really loved chocolates and appreciated that Madame Tracy was kind enough to bring her special home-made chocolates. Sergeant Shadwell just wasn't as enthusiastic.** _

_*****It was only 3 pm. The newlyweds had decided to host the wedding ceremony in the daytime in a meadow nearby because the photos would come out rather nicely then. Also, they would be less bugs during the day.** _

_******For him anyway. He wasn't much of a sweets-aficionado; Aziraphale suited that description more.** _

* * *

Giving Anathema and Newton their gift had turned into Aziraphale catching up with the bride as the groom and Crowley toiled away, unpacking and making space for the gifts. 

_Dear god, does he not know the meaning for just 5 minutes?_

"Well, it was so nice catching up with you Aziraphale!", Anathema exclaimed as the man/angel got up to depart,"Please come for Easter here, we can even paint the eggs for the hunt!"

"I'm sure Adam and his friends would like to have a colorful Easter hunt, my dear", Aziraphale nodded at Crowley as he exited the house after a quiet 'Goodbye'. 

"Again, congratulations! You too, Newton!" 

"Thanks, Mr. Fell", the groom said, using the angel's human name. 

The said angel left the premises shortly after. 

"How long do you think till he realizes that Crowley's been in love with him for 6000 years?", he asked his wife. 

"Today", she promptly replied. 

"Today?", Newton felt amused by the answer. 

"Yup, today. There's something about wedding season that gets people all sentimental and stuff. What, scared to bet, Mr. Pulsifer?", she asked cockily. 

"Not at all, Mrs. Device-Pulsifer", he smiled at Anathema, adoring the way her eyes lit up as she looked at him and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. 

* * *

It was raining cats and dogs by the time they left Lower Tadfield about an hour ago. Aziraphale was staring out the window, lost in his thoughts and the rain, while Crowley tried his best to navigate the roads and routes back to London. But as time passed by, he started to lose hope of ever finding his way back to the city and had decided to enter any place with signs of human life. 

The window-wipers squeaked none too pleasantly against the windshield and Crowley couldn't help the itch to blame Aziraphale for getting them lost, even though the angel was barely at fault here. He barely had anyone to talk to; his circle of friends was small and except him, Madame Tracy and Shadwell, the rest lived in Tadfield.

It was a special day- weddings only happen once and for the first time in quite a while, Crowley saw his angel laugh, drink and eat to his heart's content. He didn't really want to rain down on his parade, not when it was so rare to see him so carefree and happy. While he was annoyed, at best inconvenienced, whenever he had to deal with Hell and its meager tasks for tempting souls to the path of sinful delights and eternal damnation; Aziraphale looked very pressed whenever he had to visit Heaven- irrespective of the purpose: meetings, brief-ups, more jobs, etc. 

It was good to see him so happy and carefree, even if it was just for today. 

As he took a turn on the cobbled street, he noticed a small inn just a few meters away and decided that he'd rather spend the night at the shady place instead of spending it in his Bentley. _ *****_ He walked inside the building, which seemed more appropriate for a horror movie shoot, but they'd make do with whatever they could get their hands on, really.

"It is rather dark out here, Crowley. You sure this place is to be trusted?", Aziraphale asked anxiously, yet sleep was evident in the tired man's voice. 

He just gave him a half-hearted thumbs-up.

_Beggars can't be choosers, can they? ******_

He talked to the old man on the desk and after some bargaining, he was able to get a reasonable deal on the queen suite. _ *******_ He handed over the keys to Aziraphale and asked him to go ahead as he filled out the entry in the inn guest record.

* * *

_***It wasn't because he didn't like his car; he adored it the way he would've doted on his first born, had he been able to have kids. It was just that Aziraphale wasn't fond of the dark or cramped spaces and he'd always complain about the terrible back ache he'd have after not sleeping on his beloved memory foam.** _

_****He would've told that to the angel, but if there was anything he was scared of in this world, it was Aziraphale's anger. An angel scorned is worth a thousand raging bulls, really. And he wasn't very fond of bull-fighting.** _

_*****The old man at the desk had only agreed to half the price after his companion was out of sight. Then, he had given them the largest room that was available and asked them to "have fun".** _

* * *

Well, there were two things awaiting Crowley when he entered the room. First was the only bed in the entire room and the second was a half-naked Aziraphale warming himself up near the electric heater. 

That only meant two things. 

Good news- they won't have to spend the night cramped up inside Crowley's Bentley.

Bad news- he'd have to spend the rest of the night with the mental image of the angel's smooth, unblemished skin for the rest of the night and fight off any temptations his mind would force him to give into.

It was bad because he _wants to give in so bad._

_He wants to touch him, kiss him, lick and bite him in places he'd probably never been touched before._ But it was so much more than just carnal desire and hunger for bodily pleasure. It was _love, reverence, respect, adoration-_ _feelings_ he never knew he could feel; _feelings_ that any normal demon wasn't supposed to feel. _But he wasn't normal, was he now?_

No, that's what made him _different-_ because unlike others of his kind, he did _care. And it hurts. It always did_. And it probably would in the future. _Maybe as long as he was alive and near the angel he'd always feel hurt._ Because he _cared, a lot_ \- and he'd failed to show that to Aziraphale. 

And because of that, he had almost lost the only thing- _the only person_ who mattered to him. 

_God, he was so foolish._

_Aziraphale could do so much better than him._

When Aziraphale heard the door creak open, he wasn't anticipating to see Crowley far worse for wear than before. He couldn't help but feel worried for the poor man. 

"Took you long enough, my dear boy!", he exclaimed as he got up and covered his chest with the extra towels laid out on the bed, "I was just warming up. And my, your clothes are still wet! You better change now, before you catch something!", and then he ushered the demon into the bathroom to take a hot shower. For a place as eerie as this inn, it was a pleasant surprise to see that the room was well-equipped with an electric heater and hot water. 

The only problem was the lack of mattress to sleep on. H e wasn't sure if he should impose on Crowley to share a bed. He was exhausted- clearly his droopy eyes were indicating that, and he was certain that someone like him wouldn't share a bed with someone like him, whose body could certainly use some lifestyle changes 'to lose the gut'. 

While the demon was still busy with washing up after himself, Aziraphale sneaked downstairs to talk to the old gentleman at the reception to see if he could arrange some futon to for him to sleep on. He was the reason why they couldn't reach London in time. The least he could do is let the dear boy have the bed to himself for the night. 

* * *

When Crowley finished taking a bath and came out of the bathroom, he found the room empty. It seemed wrong. Unnatural, even. As if the room held no life in it without the angelic presence of Aziraphale, even though he knows he shouldn't latch onto the highs he felt when he's with the man. He couldn't really help it. Every moment with him was precious, especially now- given that he'd finally realized how scared he was; the very thought of Aziraphale not existing terrified him. 

Just as he sat down in front of the heater and tried to dry his hair with a towel, the door creaked open and in came the angel, with blankets in his arms. "Where were you?", the demon asked, eyeing him upside down.

"Oh, just went to the reception to see if they had any mattress I could use to sleep on the floor", hearing his response, Crowley wondered if Aziraphale really wasn't keen on sharing a bed with him just because he was a demon. 

"They didn't have any bedding, but they were kind enough to provide us with these blankets. Very kind of the old gentleman and his wife, really!", he said as he started to fluff the blankets and adjusted the bed-sheets. It _almost_ looked very domestic to Crowley. _Almost._

_Except they weren't exactly a couple._

"Go to sleep, angel. I'll be in a minute". 

"Where are you going?"

"For a little walk, it won't take long". 

_He wasn't back in a minute._

* * *

By the time Crowley returned from his walk, Aziraphale was fast asleep. And despite being cocooned in the warm blankets, parts of his naked upper body was still peaking through. It was almost as if fate was tempting him, making him weak in his knees for the sleeping beauty in front of him. _What it would feel to touch him, hug him, hell forbid- even kiss his rosy lips and-_

But just like he willed the desires away for the past 6000 years, he resisted. _Yet again._

It was surprising to even him, how he kept the temptations at bay, given the fact that his job was to tempt people. 

As he climbed up on the bed and got under the blankets, letting sleep take over his being,he wondered if Beelzebub was looking up at him and laughing at how pathetic he was. _*****_

_How pathetic and in love he was._

* * *

**_*Given the fact that Beelzebub lived in Hell, hence it was considered more appropriate to portray him as looking up, rather than down._ **

* * *

Sometime later in the night, Aziraphale woke up with a very parched, dry throat. _God, he was so thirsty._

He tried to get up and drink some water to soothe his sore throat. The keyword here being 'tried'. Because as soon as he moved, he was pulled back with such sheer force, that it made him jolt in surprise. Soon, he noticed the wiry arms that were holding on to him tight and the warmth radiating from behind. 

It couldn't be an intruder, since only him and Crowley had a key. _So, does that mean-?_

_Is Crowley hugging him in his sleep?_

In his 6000 years long friendship, Aziraphale had come to respect the demon and care for him a lot more than when they met in the Garden of Eden. But he had also come to _fear._ Fear was necessary; it reminded him of his limits and shortcomings and told him where to draw the line. But the more he spent time with Crowley, the more that line separating them blurred. _And it scared Aziraphale._

He didn't want to fall and be eternally damned because he felt something for Crowley that _no other angel would_. But more importantly, he didn't want his feelings to get in their way of being friends. _He didn't want Crowley to get hurt just because he loved him._

So when Aziraphale realized that it was Crowley- _bare-chested, half naked Crowley,_ who was hugging him in his sleep, he decided that he'd get up and fetch himself some water- even if it meant rudely waking up the redhead cuddling him in his sleep. _Because if he stayed there another second, his heart might burst open and set itself aflame. With how fast it was beating, he might've thought that he was having a stroke. *****_

But when he tried to move again, he heard a soft whimper. It almost sounded pained- like someone had gotten hurt. The whimpers didn't stop and soon transformed themselves into soft sobs. _Was he having a nightmare?_

_Poor child, he's always had problem falling asleep._

Gently, the angel pried the man's hands away from his chest _ *****_ and turned around to face the agitated demon. Tears were cascading down from his closed eyes in rivulets, his brows were set upon a firm frown and he was biting his lower lip so hard that Aziraphale feared that he might draw blood from it. Freeing on of his hands from the clutches of the warm blankets, he gently ran his fingers through his hair and softly whispered random things for a few minutes. His arm was hurting from how long he had been soothing him, but it didn't matter. 

_He was doing this for Crowley and nothing else really mattered in that moment._

Just as he tried to wipe his tear tracks from his face, Aziraphale was stopped by a thin, tan arm grasping his pale one. 

"What are you doing, angel?", Crowley was awake. 

And he didn't sound very pleased.

* * *

> _Crowley had just parked his car in the familiar street and made his way down to the bookshop. Aziraphale had contacted him some twenty minutes ago and informed him that he had an idea as to where the notorious son of Satan might be residing. He stopped short in his stride though; for the bookshop was on fire._
> 
> _The fire brigade was trying to put out the fire with highly pressured hoses. Seeing the familiar building in shambles and flames, Crowley got the motivation to gain momentum and try to get inside and see-_
> 
> _To see if the angel was still alive._
> 
> _"Are you the owner of this establishment?", one of the paramedics asked him._
> 
> _"Do I look like I run a bookshop?", he asked sarcastically and moved inside the aflame place, not waiting for the human's response._
> 
> _All the books were on fire and there was the 'summoning circle', drawn on the floor, which was always hidden under the maroon carpet clothing the wooden oak floor. He could barely recognize the place._
> 
> _"Aziraphale! Aziraphale, where the Heaven are you you idiot?", he screamed, his throat sore with the black soot in it, trying to choke him. But it didn't matter. The fire wouldn't affect him. It never did; the same could not be said about his angelic companion and he was scared like hell for his well being._
> 
> **_Was he really too late?_ **
> 
> _He tried to sense his presence - tried to reach for the bond that connected them both, intertwined like the red strings of fate. But it wasn't there, **he wasn't there;**_ _almost as if he never really existed._
> 
> _"I can't find you", Crowley couldn't hold it in any more; not when the harsh truth was staring him in the face with judgement and contempt in his eyes, "Aziraphale, for God's! For Satan's! Ah!", he yelled for the angel one last time, vehemently hoping against all hope that maybe it was just a cruel joke and nothing had happened to his **best friend** , "For somebody's sake, where are you?"_
> 
> _Suddenly, an explosion sounded off, not too far from where he was kneeling on the floor, desperate to find the only person that mattered in his eternally long life safe and sound._
> 
> _Moments passed. No sign of life or ethereal being was found inside the burning building._
> 
> _He groaned out, exhausted and defeated,"You've gone", he couldn't believe it; Aziraphale wasn't there anymore._
> 
> **_He wasn't there anymore._ **
> 
> _"Somebody killed my best friend! ", his lungs ached with the stress he was putting them under, his vocal chords were dry and parched; but he didn't care anymore. His soul burned for revenge- pained voices urging him to avenge his friend._
> 
> _Was the war between Hell and Heaven so important that it didn't matter how many innocent beings died for the eons-long vendetta? Was it so important for one of the sides to triumph over the other that it didn't matter what losses they suffer from?_
> 
> _Was winning so important to them that they had to kill off the only person he ever truly cared about?_
> 
> **_"BASTARDS! ALL OF YOU!!"_ **

* * *

Crowley woke up with a sudden start, his body jolting slightly from waking up from the terrible nightmare. _What's worse is that it seemed so real too. The dream almost had a sense of finality to it._

_Like he wouldn't be able to see his angel alive anymore._

When he opened his eyes though, he was met with the sight of Aziraphale's concerned cornflower blue eyes and felt his soft fingers gently carding through his hair. His face was marred with fine lines and worry wrinkles and his _full, pink lips_ trembled slightly. He opened his mouth and then closed it, gaping like a fish multiple times, until he finally gathered the courage to ask the demon,"Are you alright, Crowley?"

_NO. No he wasn't alright. He wanted to tell angel all about his fears of losing him. About how much he cared about him, despite both of them being hereditary enemies. About how much he loved him- always had, for the past 6000 years. And how he'll always love him, till the very end of time. He'd always love him with every breath he'd take._

He couldn't possibly tell him, no matter how much he yearned to disclose his unending love for him. _Well, he could really confess his feelings for the angel, but then what?_

He wasn't foolish enough to expect Aziraphale to return his feelings back- the man took a little over 6000 years to admit that this arrangement of theirs was more than just an arrangement; it was only when the world was about to end when he admitted that what he and Crowley had was akin to a semi-functional friendship. Moreover, if he did in fact return his affections, which was highly unlikely, what were the chances of this working out, without them or the other getting hurt? _Very unlikely._

_So,_ Crowley thought about how he shouldn't tell the man lying besides him the truth- how he should seal his mouth tight and lock his feelings away; maybe even sleep the love his heart was brimming with for a century of two. But he was _tired-tired of never getting a good night's worth sleep, tired of the nightmares, tired of running away, tired of always hiding his love for the angel beside him._

"No, I'm not okay, angel. I'm not okay at all. First of all, the world almost ended and we somehow saved it with the bloody Antichrist! The bloody Antichrist, of all people! Secondly, you almost died- inconveniently discorporated. And I thought I lost you. I thought that I fucking lost you! I- do you even realize what I was going through when I walked through that burning bookshop and you were nowhere in sight? I thought I lost my best friend! I thought that I lost you for good", Crowley blinked back tears brimming his golden eyes, the only other thing glowing in the room besides the rods of the electric heater. 

"I thought I'd never get to tell you how I feel about you. You're the only thing that matters, Aziraphale. You're the one true thing I always cared about. I don't know what I would've done if I-". 

But before he could continue, Aziraphale kissed him. 

He couldn't believe it. _His angel kissed him._

_Kissed him, full-force on the lips._

_And he tasted divine. Like heaven and chocolates and roses and-_

_Yeah._

"I-I'm really sorry, my dear boy!", the angel exclaimed, trying to clean up the air while Crowley was struck dumb by their first kiss, "I couldn't help it! You were rambling and I was really worried about what was happening with you and I've liked you for so long that-", Crowley wasn't sure that his ears were working right. 

_He liked him. Aziraphale liked him. And he liked the angel back too._

Before he could continue any more, the redhead leaned in and kissed the angel again. This time with more fervor and a lot more confidence, now hat he finally knew that his feelings were reciprocated. _He didn't have to hold back anymore._

_Hell and Heaven. God and Satan. The Riders of Apocalypse. The bloody Antichrist. The fucking end of the fucking world._

_None of that mattered. Nothing really mattered._

_All that mattered was that they both loved each other with all their hearts and that is all that mattered._

_His love for the angel is all that really mattered._

_And his angel loving him back was all that he cared about._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! This is my first time writing a one-shot and a long one at that! So be kind!! 
> 
> I have just gotten into Good Omens, thanks to Amazon Prime, David Tennant, Michael Sheen, Neil Gaiman and Sir Terry Pratchett. I haven't read the book yet, so it's mostly cannon to the mini-series. This fic was originally titled "Lachrymose (i wept a thousand tears for you)", but as they say- if you leave a WIP alone for a fortnight or so, its title changes into Queen's lyrics. A mystery as to how that happens. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyways, here it is! "There's No Reason For Living With A Broken Heart" from "It's A Hard Life" by Queen. Enjoy! 
> 
> Also, my future projects will be more Good Omens centered, so stay tuned, I guess?  
> __________________  
> I have a question: Will you guys be interested if I wrote a book with tips and tricks about writing, how to deal with writer's blog and stuff?  
> ___________________  
> 


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